No Cause For Alarm. Yet.

Seeing a Sox pitcher get whapped around like a sick bunny for the second night in a row can be disconcerting. And when the Jays put up that six-spot in the second inning, I reached for my dogeared copy of “Better Living Through Punching Yourself in the Nuts.”

Reflecting on the entire game, however, although it was ugly to be sure, I walk away a happier man. After Wednesday night’s loss, I lamented the lack of a killer offense, the absence of the spice that defined Sox teams of the past couple years, which would fight tooth and nail to overcome even the most staggering of deficits. But last night, we put up five runs over the last two innings, and at the very end, we had the scenario we wanted: Ortiz at the plate representing the tying run. Sure, he flew out on the first pitch, but the point is we had the chance — a chance that, about two hours earlier, seemed about as likely as Scarlett Johansson showing up at my place to use me as her personal bacalounger.

That said, it’s gonna be a long, frustrating summer if Wells, Clement and Wakey can’t find some consistency, or if — God forbid — Schill or Beckett hit the DL for any length of time. This is a team that, at least on paper, was designed primarily to prevent runs, not score them in great bunches. And with every run the opposition scores, I find myself asking how A-Gon or Wily Mo are gonna help us get that run back.

Alright. Enough looking back. We press on. The Mariners are in town, and we have Schilling tonight to get us back on track. Then Wakey on Saturday and a big-ass Easter Sunday Smackdown between Jarrod Washburn and Josh Beckett.

Oh, and if the Sox get steamrolled tonight, let me be the first blogger to claim the title “The Long Good Friday” for tomorrow’s post.